


Shelter

by bioplast_hero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Biting, Breathplay, Cockwarming, Deviant behavior, Face Knotting, M/M, Omegaverse, Plot What Plot, S&M, Scenting, Self-Worth Issues, Subspace, Switching, Vers / Bottom Shiro, instincts, primal play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27519283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/pseuds/bioplast_hero
Summary: Alphas are supposed to want omegas, but for as long as Keith can remember he’s only ever wanted Shiro. If that violates the natural order of the universe, well, he isn’t surprised. Just one more way Keith knows he’s broken.There are lines he can't cross... or so he thinks, until they cross them, one by one.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 239





	Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags: this one moves fast from pining to pretty heavy play, primal & under-negotiated kink. Sheith are both a little S and a little M, and if that isn’t your cuppa then probably don’t read.
> 
> Many thanks to [QuantumAbyssmal](https://twitter.com/quantumabyssmal) for beta help ♡ and [Robin](https://twitter.com/stardropdream), too, for much-needed cheering on!

“In here,” Keith calls back, ducking out of the sudden storm. His hair catches on the bark as he fits himself through a vicious crack in the hollowed-out tree. The valley here was forest for days, full of trees the size of monuments, ancient and gnarled like everything else they’d seen since touching down on this world. 

Keith watches almost painfully as Shiro squeezes in after him on his knees, his massive shoulders scraping past the bark roughly. Keith has to marvel at the larger alpha making it through at all.

Inside the tree is warm and just a little moist, smelling like new soil— until Shiro’s scent blooms into the space, nutmeg, bergamot and musk. Keith swallows and tries to put it out of his mind.

“We’ll have to wait this out,” Shiro says, shaking rain from his hands and combing his fingers through the spray of white hair sticking to his forehead. Even looking half-drowned, Shiro remains more handsome than he has any right to be. Keith swallows the thought, shaking a torrent of water from his own shaggy mane.

Separated from the team, socked in by the storm, and now drowning in his favorite alpha’s scent. Maybe it’s the small space or the adrenaline of running for shelter, but right now Shiro smells even more potent and mouth-watering than usual.

_Good luck trying to act like a normal fucking person,_ Keith thinks bitterly, _and an alpha no less._ Alphas are supposed to want omegas, but for as long as he can remember he’s only ever wanted Shiro. If that violates the natural order of the universe, well, Keith isn’t surprised. Just one more way that he knows he’s broken. Shiro stood by him from the start, swearing that would never change, and yet Keith’s not foolish enough to push his luck.

_So much for the quick supply run on an unknown world,_ Keith curses inwardly, already starting to sweat as he pictures bedding down for the night beside the man he thinks of every time he—

Keith strangles that inner voice with sheer force of will.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over.” Shiro offers him a smile, his scent turning bright with notes of grapefruit. And wasn’t that just like Shiro, too: always looking after Keith, reassuring him. Like the good alpha Keith is supposed to _be,_ isn’t supposed to _want._ “At least by tomorrow,” Shiro adds, shaking more water from his hair.

_Well, shit._

It’s hard to tell it’s midday with how the sky darkens more and more with storm clouds, the air electric. Keith catches Shiro’s gaze and holds it. He tries to steady his breathing, though the sight before him hardly helps… the man’s flushed cheeks, and the hard lines of his body in that needlessly tight flight suit. If Keith digs his sharp nails into his thigh to steady himself, that’s his own business. Sometimes Keith likes the pain, finds it grounding— another personality trait he’s better off keeping to himself.

A crack of lightning flashes through the thin canopy outside, flaring in Shiro’s granite eyes.

“You alright?” Shiro asks.

“Huh?”

Shiro smiles wolfishly. “You’ve been quiet.” He licks his lips and Keith’s eyes follow the movement like a lure. 

“Nothing new about that,” Keith murmurs, evading. If he’s stubborn enough, Shiro will let it go. At least for now.

Shiro shakes his head with a huff of breath, ducking his face down. “Well if you ever want to talk about that _nothing,_ ” the alpha peeks up through his long eyelashes, “I’m here.”

Keith’s throat goes dry. But Shiro doesn’t dwell on it; he busies himself checking around the space, bending to run flesh fingers through the fine material underfoot. Beneath leaf litter and moss lies crumbling wood becoming soil again, soft and spongy and hardly damp. Shiro captures a small handful in his fist and holds it as he pokes around the edges of their dim hiding place. He gives Keith as wide a berth as he can manage.

“Do you think anything lives in here?” Shiro muses aloud. “It doesn’t smell inhabited. But I guess we wouldn’t want to surprise the local wildlife.”

Keith snorts. “Naw, it doesn’t seem like we’re in somebody’s home. Nothing sizable, anyhow.” Keith turns, crouching in the opening to look out into the wind and rain. The air is clearer here, less distracting. Maybe here he can regain his composure, gather his thoughts.

Keith takes a breath of clean, crisp air, but he feels the loss as he does and wants so badly to turn back to Shiro. He’d love to bask in this time with just the two of them, only worried that he’ll finally, irreparably slip.

The scent of another alpha is supposed to make him feel territorial, wary, even threatened. Not that one doesn’t learn to master those instincts eventually. Alphas have to work together, after all. But there are limits, and a misunderstanding between alphas can escalate quickly to violence. A warning repeated so often may well hold some truth, although Keith wonders where the line is between instinct and excuse. He’s been in plenty of scrapes and knows what it feels like to decide to throw a fist.

It was still reckless to steal an alpha’s car upon first meeting, even if Keith figured he had nothing much to lose. 

He still remembers the tight coil of dread in his chest the day that Takashi Shirogane got him out of juvie and asked to see him. But this strange alpha saw _potential_ where others saw _problem case._

_The first and the last,_ Keith thinks to himself.

That’s not true and he knows it. Keith can snark about the ragtag Garrison trio and their eccentric Altean companions, but they’d all warmed up to each other. Even to Keith. He doesn’t need their approval, maybe, but it sure is better than the alternative.

“You think the others are okay?” Keith asks without turning back to Shiro. The breeze is clearing his head after all.

“I’m sure they’re fine, Keith.” Shiro’s voice is as warm and velvety as his scent. Keith feels it coming, just before the contact— Shiro’s touch grazing his shoulder, the strong, metal grip familiar and grounding as Shiro settles on his knees behind him. Keith lets out a clinging breath.

“Okay,” Keith sighs, blinking as stray drops pelt his face.

“You’re so tense,” Shiro accuses, starting to knead his shoulder. The penetrating grip threatens to pull a moan from Keith, tugging with it other feelings that he works very hard to keep locked away. Keith’s voice trips over a huff of breath that hopefully sounds like a laugh. 

“Suppose I thought we’d have it easy today,” Keith answers, voice a little breathy. Shiro keeps working his shoulders, now with both hands, and at length Keith gives up a stilted little groan of pleasure. “You know. A nice day in the woods, some foraging? A little fresh air?”

“What, you don’t like marinating in recirculated air?”

Keith does laugh, then, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the thought. Sometimes even sharing a whole Castle-ship is closer quarters than what Keith would ever choose. Maybe he is kind of a loner still, even if he gets sick of the label. Old habits die hard. But that never has applied to Shiro.

More lightning rips through the sky as Keith pulses with anxious energy under Shiro’s hands. It’s effort to hide how fucking good that feels.

“It’s a wonder we don’t all come out smelling the same,” Keith muses. “Like a red sock in the wash. Rinse and repeat.”

But Shiro doesn’t laugh, hands carving along Keith’s shoulder blades, sculpting him. He seems deep in thought, his scent thick and cloying like oil even as Keith stares out into the wind.

“Shiro?”

The man almost startles, coming back to himself in a rush. “I don’t know how to feel about that,” Shiro hesitates, like he’s turning it over in his mind. His hands are sure and warm, his scent almost burning. “I don’t want you to smell like anyone else.”

Keith stops breathing. He’s forgotten how. He aches to turn and see Shiro’s face— but worse is the urge to retreat, feeling sure Shiro couldn’t mean it how it sounds. Keith’s wrong to even think it. His gut twists in confusion.

“Keith,” Shiro whispers. Keith hardly hears it for how the thunderclap cuts through his name, feeling just as flayed.

Shiro shifts closer. It unfolds in slow motion, leaving Keith every chance to pull away. He doesn’t. Hunger surges up inside him as he feels Shiro’s broad chest pillow against the sharp angles of his back, arms crossing over his chest. Something in his mind tells him he should fight it, stay vigilant, but Keith wants whatever this is— whatever he can have. 

Maybe Keith can just pretend. He closes his eyes as Shiro holds him, cradling Keith’s weight, nearly swooning as Shiro’s musk washes over him and mixes with the rain. For a moment, everything is perfect.

Shiro sucks in a faint breath. It’s quiet, so quiet it could mean anything, but it doesn’t. _Fuck._ Keith knows in an instant that he’s given himself away, almost certainly with his scent.

Keith can’t have nice things. Someone like Shiro, so trusting and good, is a nicer thing than he ever imagined, far beyond what he thinks he deserves. Look how easily he can spoil it.

He expects Shiro to pull away, waits for the acrid spike of confusion and stress in the alpha’s scent, disgust at Keith’s blatant longing. It never comes. Instead, he gets a bloom of pepper and cedar and hot breath as Shiro tucks his nose into Keith’s hair and inhales deeply.

Shuddering, Shiro settles his hips against Keith’s ass. It sends a thrill up his spine, along with a sick coil of doubt, winding tighter.

“Wh- what are you doing?” Keith’s voice pitches too high.

“You could’ve told me,” Shiro growls at his temple, the sound alone sending sparks along Keith’s nerves. “All you had to do was say,” Shiro nuzzles his nose at the base of Keith’s ear and down the side of Keith’s neck, over the thrum of his pulse.

“I- couldn’t,” Keith gulps. _Couldn’t face you. Couldn’t risk it._ But here Shiro is, holding him even tighter, drinking him in. It’s impossible to ignore the barely-there rock of Shiro’s hips, the way the larger alpha nudges at him with unmistakable intent. Keith’s cock jumps to attention.

“Couldn’t?” Shiro soothes his palms down Keith’s upper arms, still folded over Keith’s chest. “Who says we can’t?”

Keith breathes in the petrichor of the forest and Shiro’s spice, and some bitter note he almost can’t place until Shiro grows still and uncertain.

“Don’t stop,” Keith says in a rush, pinning Shiro’s arms across his chest. He can’t bear to feel Shiro pull away. “I need this,” he says. _This. You._

This’ll change everything, whether he’s ready or not. It’s instinct now to reach for what he wants, to salvage something, anything.

Shiro’s contended growl rumbles through Keith’s frame like the thunder that follows it.

_Don’t think, don’t think._ Hell, Keith knows better than to expect it to last. Alphas don’t choose other alphas as mates— though Keith would, _oh_ he would. But he’s always been different, deviant. The kind of alpha no one wants to have around.

Could Shiro be different, too?

“Come here.” Shiro tugs him, shuffling Keith around on his knees to face him. Shiro moves as though to kiss him, and the thought is nearly enough for Keith to combust. But Shiro cups his jaw instead, baring Keith’s throat as the alpha leans in to inhale the younger man’s scent, sighing heavily. Keith’s breath catches as Shiro’s lips move over the tender skin of his neck, tongue lapping at him. Metal fingers walk up Keith’s spine, pulling him closer as Shiro sucks a soft mark where his pulse races.

Shiro sighs at the ragged moan Keith makes. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

Keith’s vision bursts with stars at the name and the sting at his throat as Shiro sucks another mark. It’s nothing like a mate mark, his teeth held back, though it’s possessive all the same, and that is more than Keith ever dreamed. Shiro cups the back of his neck in a strong hold.

Their flight suits fit like a second skin and Keith already feels naked as Shiro pulls back to meet his eyes. He wants to kiss Shiro’s lips. He always wants what he can’t have.

“I can’t submit to you.” Keith says it in a low voice, feeling raw at the words. He’s not sure who he’s convincing, Shiro or himself. “I- won’t.”

Shiro blinks. “I want you as you are. Nothing else.” He squeezes the flesh at the top of Keith’s spine and it settles something shaking in his chest.

“But you can hurt me,” Keith swallows. “I can take it. You don’t have to- hold back.” Never mind how his stomach flips, much more anticipation than fear.

Shiro stares back. “Why?” he asks, his scent shot through with pinpricks of surprise. 

Keith’s mouth hangs open. He has to look away, can hardly think under Shiro’s gaze. It was just what he’d been taught— about alpha aggression in mating, what happens without an omega’s soothing influence. Now he feels wrong-footed, telling Shiro something like that. 

“I thought that was why it was… dangerous.” Keith’s eyes slide back to Shiro’s face. “Alphas, together.”

Shiro’s expression is suddenly hard. “Don’t let anyone tell you who you are.” The command in it raises the hair all over Keith’s body. Shiro captures both of Keith’s wrists, anchoring him. “Do your instincts control you?”

“No,” Keith breathes.

“And mine don’t control me.” Shiro’s mouth twists almost like a snarl, pooling liquid heat low in Keith’s abdomen as his grip tightens on Keith’s wrists, almost biting. “Now, if you like it to hurt, that’s different.”

Keith thrills at the teasing threat in his words. It’s far more appealing than he’s ready to admit, the sharp pressure at his wrists rooting him in this moment. The storm outside flickers and crashes in their silence.

“Do _you_ like it to hurt?” Keith rasps.

The glint in Shiro’s eyes is magnetic, his eyes smiling. He doesn’t answer, not really, which is almost answer enough. 

“Don’t try to be someone else,” Shiro warns. _No submitting,_ Keith thinks with a flutter in his stomach. “I know you, Keith. You’re the one I want.”

Keith feels hot all over, his blood rushing. _Wanted. Me?_ It may have seemed before like they were playing some kind of a game, letting off steam. Not so anymore— not when Shiro speaks of wanting, like it’s a fact, like saying his name.

“And how come _you_ never said?” Keith taunts, pulling a grin into place like armor for the places where he aches. He arches an eyebrow. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Shiro huffs. “Guilty.” He fingers the clasp on Keith’s suit at the nape of his neck. “Make it up to you?” Shiro bites his lip, fake-coy and devastating. All Keith manages by way of an answer is a nod.

Unfastening Keith’s suit, Shiro’s fingers slide down Keith’s spine where the material gives way. Keith searches his eyes, wetting his lips with a flick of tongue. 

Keith knows what he wants. It’s a risk, even now, but he promised not to hold back or back down. He has to trust himself.

As soon as his arms are free from the sleeves, Keith reaches for Shiro’s face, sliding his fingers up to grip his bangs roughly. He surges forward, catching Shiro’s lips.

Shiro makes a shocked little sound. Keith doesn’t dare hesitate as he pulls the alpha’s hair to drag him deeper into the kiss. It takes moments for Shiro to remember himself, time enough for Keith to read his scent going heady with pleasure, herbal and magnetic. When Shiro kisses back, he dives into Keith’s mouth with a growl.

Keith finds the clasp on Shiro’s suit, pulling blindly as the material parts, baring the heat of the alpha’s skin. Keith keens into the kiss when his tongue skirts Shiro’s sharp canines.

Shiro topples him back into the soft earth, raising gooseflesh over Keith’s bare back at the cool touch of the ground. Shiro strips Keith down with precision, eyes lapping up the sight of him. Keith leans up and nips sharply at Shiro’s jaw as he settles over him. Shiro’s hips jolt forward with a groan, already seeking friction.

Once Shiro’s chest is bare, Keith throws his weight. He’s practiced the throw, but never has he executed it so perfectly. There’s a special motivation, using it here far from training rooms and prying eyes. He rolls Shiro onto his back and straddles the alpha’s hips with a triumphant croon.

Shiro laughs, impressed, gripping Keith’s thighs hard enough to bruise. “Always crafty in a fight.”

Keith answers by grinding down, his cock hard and leaking where Shiro’s is still trapped in tight fabric pooled at his waist. _Can’t have that._ He drags the suit down roughly, getting a first look at Shiro’s thick cock, heavy and curved against his belly.

“And is this a fight?” Keith teases as he settles over him again, holding Shiro down. The man had the perfect chance to get away, but Shiro makes no attempt. He’s languid beneath Keith’s gaze. Keith would give anything to know what this look means, Shiro’s eyes so clear and bright. 

“It isn’t.” Shiro says it like a promise, tugging Keith down into a sharp kiss.

Kissing Shiro, tasting his tongue and drinking in his clean scent— it’s unreal. Shiro is _good._ He isn’t _wrong_ like Keith knows he is, a discipline case, a problem to be solved. Shiro would say he has his flaws, but Keith knows better. He’s always been perfect, and forbidden… and once he starts drinking Shiro in, Keith knows he can’t stop.

“Wanna fuck your pretty mouth,” Keith pants against his lips, filthy, pinching a peaked nipple to wrench a moan from Shiro.

_“Keith.”_ Shiro breathes his name like a curse, nipping Keith’s lip in retaliation. “I’ll have to teach your mouth some manners.”

How many times has Keith gotten off to the thought of swallowing Shiro’s cock, of being held down and fucked? Plenty, though he never counted. Each time he told himself it would be the last time, until the next time. Keith knows he wants it, but Shiro will have to earn it. He’s a poor excuse for an alpha, maybe, but Keith does have some pride.

“Try me,” Keith challenges, rutting his leaking cock along Shiro’s length.

Shiro’s grip in Keith’s hair takes him by surprise, yanking him off balance as they roll. The smell of kicked-up soil mingles with woodsy spice as both alphas struggle for a foothold, tearing at each other for a superior angle. Keith grits his teeth as Shiro’s metal fingers bruise over his ribs, his grip uncompromising. But Keith has claws.

Shiro howls as Keith draws first blood. He thinks distantly that it’s wrong, this is his best friend, his favorite person, _his m—_

Why does his blood sing when Shiro hisses in pain?

But Shiro gives as good as he gets, for as long as the grappling lasts. Shiro telegraphs left when he moves right, capturing Keith’s thigh and launching him back off his knees. 

Keith twists as he falls. He’s pressed down in the moss and dirt, Shiro heavy on his back, when the alpha’s teeth seize the meat of Keith’s shoulder. He hisses but it doesn’t let up, crying out as teeth break skin.

Keith can’t believe it. The bite isn’t at his throat, nothing serious like that, but it’s hard and deep and claiming. Keith’s cock throbs with need as Shiro sucks over the wound, moaning.

“Shiro,” Keith pants, writhing for friction. Shiro raises him up on his knees, hugged to Shiro’s chest when he bites again. It’s intoxicating, his head swimming. Keith grasps for what he can, the muscle of Shiro’s thick thighs rippling under his hands as his claws dig in. Shiro bites his other shoulder in answer.

Keith can’t remember turning. Shiro moved him bodily, thrusting him back against what remains of the hulking tree. The kiss is rough, more tongue and teeth than a meeting of lips. Keith doesn’t question it, not when Shiro moans like _that_ and chuffs like a tiger.

Keith’s answering rumble pulls Shiro’s lips into a cocky smile.

“You’re something else,” Shiro breathes at his ear, licking a stripe over Keith’s pulse. “Incredible.”

Keith’s chest swells with pride, spreading to his fingers and toes. Keith slams into Shiro, tumbling down with him. He makes sure he lands between Shiro’s legs, not missing how they open for him. He sucks a bruise over Shiro’s thudding pulse, the man’s thighs squeezing his waist. Keith rocks his cock along Shiro’s length, making him go boneless. It’s a shock and a thrill, feeling Shiro let go under his touch.

“Want you to fuck me, Keith,” he pants.

“Nghn, _Shiro._ ” Keith tugs at his ear with sharp teeth. “No lube.”

Shiro laughs. “I’ll be fine.”

Keith pulls up to search his eyes. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

“You don’t?” His eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Fine,” Keith huffs. He bites Shiro’s jaw in warning. “I’ll hurt you however you like.”

There’s no laughter this time, sparks flickering in Shiro’s eyes.

“Keith, please.” 

It steals his breath. Alphas don’t plead, don’t _beg._ But he trusts Shiro with his life, and knows he means what he says. 

Keith grinds their cocks together again, slick with anticipation as he tucks Shiro’s calves over his shoulders. The thought slides into Keith’s mind, how badly he wants to fuck between Shiro’s thighs.

But the sight of Shiro’s hole makes him forget everything else. Shiro’s body clenches around nothing, aching to be filled.

“Fuck,” Keith breathes, taking his cock in hand and grazing the tip around the ring of muscle. Shiro’s breath hitches. Keith spits into his hand, slicking himself however he can. When he nudges inside, an inch at a time, Shiro’s back arches on a silent cry. 

Keith can’t stop watching his hole, transfixed by Shiro’s body swallowing him down. He never knew it was like this. It feels good, so scorchingly good, and strange. He’s outside his body for a moment, watching the way Shiro’s body takes him.

Keith’s eyes drag back up to Shiro’s face, where the alpha’s lip is caught between his teeth, his eyes lidded, pinching at the corners. He’s such a sight. Keith’s hips stutter before he finds his rhythm again.

But Shiro is quiet— so quiet, so controlled. Keith needs to hear him. Holding Shiro’s hips, he finds the leverage he needs and snaps his hips with more force. 

“Ah!” Shiro gasps, the first in a string of tight moans punched from his lungs, louder and louder as Keith’s grip tightens.

Keith wants to catch his cries in his mouth, but the angle is good here and he’s not about to tire out. He can be good for Shiro, fuck him like he deserves. Keith’s mouth finds Shiro’s calf instead, sucking and teasing with his teeth. 

His canines are sharp, that much he knows. At the scrape of his teeth, Shiro bears down on him, his voice trembling. Keith thought he had control, but suddenly he doesn’t. He makes a desperate sound, knowing he should stop before he spends himself too soon like a cub.

Shiro’s fingers bite into the backs of Keith’s hands where he grips Shiro’s waist, urging him on. Keith can’t resist, not when the sting tips him even faster over the edge. Keith comes forcefully, wheezing for breath. He’s sure he looks wilder than he ever has. Shiro never lets go of Keith’s hands.

“Mm,” Shiro hums, rolling his hips with Keith still inside. The tremor in Shiro’s voice is filthy, but his eyes are soft, thoughtful. “I bet your knot feels so good, Keith.”

“I- I’ve never—” Keith sputters, confused. Knots are for mates. Shiro wants his knot? The thought makes Keith yearn for it, but he can’t just will his knot into being. When he feels safe with his mate, secure and trusted, his body will give him a knot.

“It’s alright,” Shiro answers. “But if you do, it would be alright with me.”

“Really?” Keith hates how his voice shakes, but Shiro just smiles, too soft for teasing.

“Really.”

Keith has no words for the proud feeling in his chest. He bends down, staying seated as long as he can. A growl swells out of him as he licks into Shiro’s inviting mouth.

Shiro seems content with rumbly, heated kisses, no urgency for more. Not like Keith. It’s like an itch, and it’s catching. He feels his claim, his seed painted deep in the other alpha’s body, but Shiro isn’t sated and it leaves something in Keith seeking. Even as his body grows heavy with the throes of his orgasm, the need grows. Keith’s cock will try valiantly to harden again before too long, but he still can’t wait to take Shiro into his mouth.

He slides out, inching downward with clear intent, but Shiro grabs his nape and unseats him with a twist of his hips.

It’s a strong throw, and Keith’s quicker reflexes are dulled from his orgasm, but he escapes Shiro’s first attempt to pin. They roll and crouch, both fighting from the ground, lunging instinctively. Nothing exists but this, beyond the peat and rain and sweat. It’s mere minutes before the larger alpha gets the position he needs, knees pinning Keith by his upper arms.

Keith struggles beneath Shiro, though he feels his breath slowing as he drinks in Shiro’s musk, so close now. Shiro’s cock bobs heavily near his face, a bead of pre gathering at the tip. Keith’s mouth waters at the sight even as he snarls defiantly at being bested. It’s confusing, humiliating, needing to win and wanting to lose.

“Easy now,” Shiro says, cool and in control. “It’s just us, Keith.”

_Of course it’s just us,_ he thinks, but the words get under his ribs regardless. Who is he trying to impress? 

“Tell me to let you up and I will.”

Keith feels his heart settling as he holds Shiro’s eyes. 

“Don’t,” he swallows. “Please don’t.”

Shiro’s mouth makes a small, surprised ‘o’ as his scent blooms in orange blossom, with notes of pepper beneath. The memory hits hard, of the day Shiro was offered the Kerberos mission. How incandescently happy he was, lifting Keith off his feet into a hug. Spinning him right there on the tarmac where anyone could see them, Keith’s nostrils filled with orange blossom and a tang of salt. Shiro sprinted to find him, to tell _him_ out of everyone, like he mattered.

It stuns Keith again now, the thought of being that kind of good news.

“Alright,” Shiro gazes down at Keith, pinned by his knees. Strong fingers comb into Keith’s tangled fringe, petting his face possessively until his thumb traces over Keith’s lip. “A taste, then,” Shiro says as he shifts forward with his cock in his metal grip.

Keith licks his lips, reaching. He’s dizzy with thirst, and something like relief. He’s allowed to want this. Shiro wants him like this. Keith croons low in his throat when the head of his cock nudges his lip, then a welcome slide against Keith’s tongue.

Shiro shudders, pushing into Keith’s mouth. Keith can’t help how his eyes flutter, lolling at the heady taste. It’s so much, mouth so full and not full enough. Keith sucks at him, working under the crown with his tongue, straining for more, but the angle is wrong. He wants Shiro deeper.

Keith arches his back up from the ground, tipping Shiro forward. The larger man grunts in surprise as he catches himself on his hands over Keith’s head, straddling his face. But it wasn’t that kind of throw, not like before; his arms freed, Keith reaches for Shiro’s hips and hoists himself up, taking him deeper. Shiro’s cock nudges hard against the tight passage of his throat.

“Keith!” Shiro gasps, his voice laced with concern even as he makes a lewd sound. Metal fingers knot in Keith’s hair, pinning him to the earth as Shiro pulls just out of reach.

“I can take it, Shiro,” Keith gasps under him, struggling, “I want—”

“Then let me,” Shiro says firmly. Keith’s thoughts spin, aching to chase, to command, to act. Desperate to give in, to trust, to submit. 

_You’re an alpha. Be an alpha._ But Shiro looked so sure, so at ease, when he gave Keith control. It wasn’t weakness, but strength. And is there anything he wouldn’t give Shiro?

“Now, Shiro,” Keith pants, too desperate to think it through.

His grip doesn’t move from Keith’s hair, and when Shiro thrusts into his mouth it’s sharp and precise. A single strike, then an unforgiving rhythm, pulsing into him until the head breaches Keith’s throat. Keith’s heart squeezes frantically around a soundless whimper, claws sinking into Shiro’s flank where he’s already left marks. Deep, deep thrusts force him open, salty where traces of pre coat his tongue. There’s no argument, no action. It’s all Keith can do to go boneless beneath him, to sink into that place of calm where he can feel everything and let Shiro know how he really feels.

“That’s it, Keith,” Shiro rasps, voice low and dangerous as his scent sweetens, delicious and smothering. “Knew you’d take me so well.”

Sparks fly behind Keith’s eyelids, shut tight against tears. Good, so good. It’s everything he’s craved. The weight in his mouth, Shiro’s desire and praise, his grip stern and tender. There’s no one he’d trust like this, no omega, no alpha that isn’t his Shiro.

Keith’s body is singing now, an understanding he can’t ignore. _Mate, mate, mate._

And he’s not the only one; he feels the weight of Shiro’s knot, growing and bruising his lips as his alpha pistons his hips.

_Yours,_ he thinks. _And mine._

Shiro moans louder, voice hitching in a new, overwhelmed note. Swallowing Shiro’s thrusts, sinking down into that feeling, Keith doesn’t know when he started purring. The vibrations deep in his chest take Shiro by surprise, quiet but tangible. His eyes flood with fresh tears. If he could see Shiro’s face, what would he see? Would he forgive Keith’s weakness?

He doesn’t feel weak; he feels whole, like somehow all his pieces fit. His purring kicks up louder, riding the dizzy edge of release. So wrecked, so safe, so hopelessly Shiro’s.

“Keith,” Shiro shudders, voice thick with emotion. “Baby, yes. Yes. I need you- wanted you—”

Keith arches beneath him, helpless as he coats his own belly with come. His cock pulses delirious pleasure as he struggles to breathe, suspended in vetiver and ginger.

“Deep breath, baby, now,” Shiro commands, voice straining hard. Keith obeys.

Shiro shouts as he buries himself deep, knot sinking into Keith’s mouth and locking tight behind his teeth. Keith spasms, choking, throat burning as his eyes stream with tears. He can’t move, can’t breathe. With a long groan, Shiro comes in his throat.

The moment hovers, without scent, without breath, only the heavy sound of rain in their roaring silence. Everything burns— lungs, eyes, throat, jaw. He’s choking- but no, he’d need breath to sputter and choke. Keith’s chest spasms silently and he drifts, blanketed in Shiro’s thick heat.

Shiro’s grip gentles in Keith’s hair, stroking muzzily as his edges blur. It’s too much, it’s too long. His lungs strain uselessly, until somehow they don’t anymore. He tries to make out Shiro’s words and it’s no use, but he hears how they sound. Warm and enveloping like his alpha’s scent that Keith already misses. 

He hears a rapid heart. He should know it’s his own, but he thinks it’s Shiro’s, keeping him present.

He feels Shiro’s grip, a pinch at his neck. A signal, a reminder. Shiro’s right here with him. He won’t let anything happen to Keith. It hits him like something he’s always known, even if he forgets from time to time. Shiro won’t let him forget.

Shiro rubs his throat and it’s all it takes for Keith to realize Shiro is softening in his mouth, knot slowly coming down. Keith wills the barest waft of breath into his lungs through his nose, slipping down his claimed throat. The scent pierces, bright floral and fragrant wood underneath. He sips at the air until he can’t hold any more, there’s nowhere for it to go.

Shiro shifts back the fraction that he can. Keith’s eyes sting and his whole body lurches. He’s tried so hard to never hope, but he doesn’t have to now. He knows this is real.

“You’re okay,” Shiro soothes cool fingertips over Keith’s cheek, wiping softly at the tears he finds there. He holds very still for Keith, cradling his face. Keith manages another slow, labored breath and he thinks he hears the crack of Shiro’s smile. “I’ve got you, Keith. I promise. Won’t ever let you go.”

Keith whines. The sound hurts as it leaves him, wincing as he gags and his chest heaves, but he can’t help it. It’s the only promise that ever mattered to him. _Shiro’s._

Shiro withdraws as soon as he can. No matter how Keith struggled for air, he still feels bereft to lose that feeling of holding Shiro deep inside. But Shiro’s still here, kissing the tears from his face, humming adoration at his ear as he drapes the heat of his body over Keith’s, enfolding him. His scent turns sweeter, gentler, even tentative. There are tear tracks on Shiro’s face.

“Better?” Shiro’s smile is a fragile thing. Keith’s heart leaps.

“Better,” Keith rasps, coughing. “Never better,” he confesses, his own smile wobbling. 

Shiro’s eyes smile now, like Keith is reminding him how. “Sweetheart,” he whispers, peppering kisses over Keith’s face. “That’s what I want to hear.”

Keith huffs, holding Shiro’s face steady to see him properly. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

Shiro tilts his head, questioning.

Keith swallows, a wretched scrape that rips him open again. Can he put it into words, this feeling in his chest? He will somehow, for Shiro’s sake.

“That you won’t let me go,” he whispers. 

Shiro’s voice soothes like honey, steel underneath. “Never,” Shiro murmurs, taking Keith’s lips.

\+ + +

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [**twitter**](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero)! ❤️🖤 [Other sheith by this author](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=10209319&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&exclude_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=17504241&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=halloween+party&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=T&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&commit=Sort+and+Filter&user_id=bioplast_hero)
> 
> I love comments of any kind, including emoji dances and keysmashes— all welcome. Thank you for reading!


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